Chapter 28 - A Matter of Fanatics

High Orbit of Vardos

Resurgent-Class Star Destroyer Ravager

"With all due respect, Lieutenant," the hologram projection of a meeting time a few hours past echoed in the office quarters, "regardless of what Eighty-Seven had done, he was still one of us. Our orders were clear, our objective and RoE were clear. Yet our-"

"Admiral," the intercom suddenly interrupted, "Captain Phasma is here to see you."

"Send her in," Admiral Hux nodded with a sigh, easing back in his chair as in the distance a series of doors were opened as footsteps approached. There was a sort of desperate, yet determined quality to them, and the Admiral knew what to expect in the coming minutes.

A moment later, the door to his office opened and Captain Phasma entered, her helm held at the waist as her eyes suddenly locked on the holographic recording playing of the Admiral's desk. Yet, she refused to speak her thoughts at its sight, instead stiffing to attention.

"Admiral, I am here as you requested."

"Good. Stand easy and have a seat."

"I would rather stand, sir."

"Captain," Hux gave her a small smile, "you're going to be standing for a long time then. Please, take a seat. Don't make me turn it into an order."

"Aye sir," she sighed, pulling out one of the black chairs and sitting uncomfortably in it.

"You know, I am a bit surprised," Hux suddenly said.

"About what, sir?"

"You're still wearing the armor. I understand wearing it around the good Captain Sydow-"

She scoffed at the description, but Hux ignored it and continued, "But here? Well, I expected you to change into BDU's or something a bit more comfortable."

"Sir," Phasma allowed herself a small smile, "comfort and I are very strange bedfellows. And with all due respect, I feel naked without this armor."

"You certainly have given many years of service, Phasma. Some thirty years of it, in fact."

There was a change in the Admirals tone that made Phasma a little warry. He'd just gone from the professional to something a bit more familial. Hux never did that unless there was a point to be made, and Phasma forced herself to relax and play the game.

"Twenty seven years, five months, and twenty seven days," she corrected with a soft smile, "ever since I left Parnassos to attend the Academy on Tyyrr."

"Ah yes, of course. I suppose I count the extra years for your time helping us tame Parnassos."

"Tame is a bit of a loose term, Ramius. After all, didn't the First Order want my home to remain wild and dangerous?"

"Wild and dangerous, but manageable, Phasma," Hux grinned under his heavy beard, "in many ways, I would even say that describes you."

"Thank you, I suppose. Ramius, if I may be blunt, what is the point of this?"

"Just a curiosity, Phasma. Do you remember what you said to me just before you left for Tyyrr?"

"Which part?"

"The bit about you being the last of your tribe?"

"Yes," she said carefully, "of how I would continue my traditions and give it to the First Order."

"And in doing so, you helped mold us two generations of Stormtrooper. I always found it curious how you chose to make them your tribe rather than the traditional way."

"What, by making little ones?" Phasma smiled wryly, "No disrespect to those who do, but that was never going to be my intention. My Troopers and the First Order," she sighed a little, "and you are my family. My tribe, so to say."

"Not for lack of trying," Hux said, something changing in his face, "Cardinal comes to mind."

Phasma's face suddenly hardened, "What do you mean by that, sir?"

"Not much gets by me, Phasma, you should know this."

"Sir, Cardinal and I were close, yes. But we never-"

"Phasma, the line between merely familial and more is a very fickle thing. I always wondered which side of it the two of you stood by, and there are times it was the latter."

"Nothing ever came of it," she said with tone as tight as a vice, "it would've been inappropriate for us. For many years, Cardinal was my superior."

"Yet you wish it had turned out differently. That he never tried his coup."

"Of course I do, sir. He was my brother in many ways, and I wish…" her voice suddenly trailed off as her eyes stared at the desk, remembering things that she did not want to.

"What? That you hadn't been the one to put him down?"

She said nothing, her face growing a bit looser, and Hux could see she was trying to avoid crying. She breathed in finally, and surprisingly her voice hadn't cracked, "I did my duty, sir, and what was asked of me."

"Yes, you did," Hux nodded as he stood and stared out the window at the planet below, "as you always do, and yet in a way it was serves what you want in the end."

"I don't understand, sir."

"It's very simple, Captain. You've let things grow very personal for you. You've turned your Troopers into family, and your fellow officers even more so."

"Would you have rather me not to, Ramius?" she asked, a little bit of hurt in her voice as she rose to her feet, her impressive height coming to full bare.

"Your method is useful, and helps create cohesion, but it comes with a single debilitating drawback."

"With all due respect, Admiral, I teach the way I was taught. Not just by my tribe, but by you, by those on Tyyrr-"

"And Cardinal," Hux finished her sentence as he turned around and looked up at her, "tell me something, Captain. Do you think he was right?"

The question caused her to stiffened, "As an officer or a friend?"

"We're in my office, Phasma. Of course as a friend."

"Well then, Ramius, I do… and I don't."

"Explain."

She sighed, allowing herself to sit and run one leg over the other, staring at the helmet in her hands. After a moment, she looked up at him again.

"What was the single weakness of the Empire that brought it down in the end, especially at Endor?"

"Palpatine," Hux answered, "Sith or not, no one man can do the work of a million, and as a result, we lost that battle because of his pride."

"Is it any different with Demask, then?"

"Cardinal certainly thought not," the Admiral deflected, "and perhaps his logic was correct, or perhaps not. It's not our duty to ask that."

"Sir, Cardinal was the most loyal out of all of us. Unlike me, he was raised in the Core. He live and breathed the Empire. If a man as loyal as that-"

"Pellaeon was loyal, Vader was loyal, and yet look at both. One abandoned us, the other betrayed us. Words have no meaning, Phasma. Action does, and Cardinal betrayed the First Order and damn near tore us apart in civil war."

"Cardinal was not the only one involved."

"No, Captain, but he was the core of their ideology. He was their symbol, and he is the source of every damn fanatic we've had to deal with thereafter."

"Fanatic?" she spat, "He is no different than me, Admiral. We trained our soldiers to be loyal."

"You trained your men to be loyal to each other, Captain. You taught them to be family. He trained them to be loyal to a destructive ideology. To be loyal to him."

She rose again, barely able to keep her emotions checked, "That is not fair, Admiral. You can call the man traitor, but you dare not question his methodology. It produced me, after all."

"You are an exception rather than the rule," Hux grumbled as he moved back to his desk, "FN-2145 was another product of his training and look where that has taken things."

He then played the recording from the beginning, the sharp and harsh face of Sergeant FN-2007, or Sevens, appeared on the display. His face was colored a slight blue, but it did not hide the intensity of his icy blue eyes or even how his blonde hair seem to glow as the Investigator spoke during the interrogation.

"We have your helmets telemetry, Sergeant. We saw everything that happened in that room."

"Then why are we having this discussion, Lieutenant?" Sevens asked, his eyes blaring as he did, "Why this inquiry? You clearly have everything you need, so let me get back to my duties. We are down a platoon commander, after all."

"That is entirely why we are here, Sergeant. The question on everyone's mind is why you acted the way you did towards Lieutenant FN-2145."

"I think it should be pretty clear why I acted the way I did."

"Why don't you inform us, Sergeant. Better yet, answer me this. Did you have an intention of shooting 2145? From your own vitals and telemetry, there is some debate of your intentions."

The trooper leaned forward, glaring as he did, "You telling me you can read my mind now, huh? That you can guess what was going through my head at the moment?"

"If we could, we would not be having this discussion, now would we?"

"With all due respect, Lieutenant, regardless of what Eighty-Seven had done, he was still one of us. Our orders were clear, our objective and RoE were clear. Yet our platoon commander acted like a carking idiot. Like some greenhorn who should have died on Parnassos."

"Is that why you readied your weapon? Is that why you switched it from stun to kill in that moment?"

"Yes," Sevens growled, "we have standards in this Corps, Lieutenant. Those standards were drilled into us since we were children. Obedience and discipline being chief among them. L-Tee was neither in that moment. Our orders were to take Eighty-Seven and anybody associated with him alive and without incident."

"And L-Tee didn't?"

"Do you need to check the recording again?" he growled.

"I want your perspective, sergeant."

"Fine, here's my perspective. L-Tee beat Eighty-Seven repeatedly. He threatened to rape a woman. He was prepared to execute both despite our orders. He broke the conducts of good order and discipline just so he could have a little ideological spat and-" he broke off then, his face become dangerously red.

"And?"

"You have access to my helmet's telemetry?"

"Of course."

"I want you to play it up to the point we're talking about."

A few moments passed and Sevens held up his hand, "Stop, right there."

The image was when L-Tee was drawing his sidearm, the helmets camera staring into his face.

"What am I supposed to see, Sergeant?" the investigator asked.

"I want you to look at his eyes, Lieutenant. What do you see?"

"I see a man ready to kill."

"Yes. Me. As a platoon sergeant, it is my duty to maintain order and cohesion. To remind my superiors of their duty. For doing that, L-Tee was ready to kill me. Tell me something, Lieutenant. Do you think we need that sort of officer in the Corps, or even in the Guard? A man who would kill his fellows for reminding him of his duty?"

The investigator stared at him for a moment, "You still have yet to answer my question. Would you have shot FN 2145?"

"Sir, considering the fact that the man was acting like a raving idiot? That he was going to shoot me and probably others? Well, I'm just glad the Jedi blew him to Chaos so I wouldn't have to."

"You would do this for what? To protect a traitor?"

"Eighty-Seven may have betrayed us, Lieutenant, but he was still one of us. In fact, I am even inclined to believe that's why our orders were to take him alive."

"What do you mean?"

"Eighty-Seven, even when he was betraying us, never killed anyone of us. He didn't kill that technician team in the elevator, or any of us when we were fighting the Jedi. Hell, he had me in his sights and he just stunned me."

"You're right, he didn't kill any of us. The prisoner he helped escape did."

"I'm not talking about the pilot, Lieutenant. I'm talking about a brother, a squad leader I led on Parnassos. The man who lost his entire team on Jakku. He may have betrayed us, Lieutenant, but he was still one of us, and I stand by what I did."

The recording suddenly stopped, focusing on the man's face and the frankness of it.

"I should have been there," Phasma sighed, "on Jakku, and I should have been the one in that interrogation room."

"There was no way you could have stopped the deaths of FN-2187's squad."

"I'm not talking about the battle, Admiral," Phasma replied, "I'm talking about when the platoon tried to capture him. I should have been there."

"And that is exactly why I didn't want you there to begin with," Hux grumbled softly, "why I disagreed with the order to bring him in alive."

"Then why did you issue my order, Admiral?"

"Because I wanted to believe you were right. Because I let my personal feelings get in the way of our mission. FN-2187 should have been dead the moment he entered that room, but instead he lived and is now delivering the droid to our enemy."

"If FN-2145 had obeyed orders, we would not be in this position to begin with."

"That is exactly the problem, Phasma. You gave the order to his platoon. You made this personal."

"Admiral, I am not making excuses for what happened, but I ordered that particular platoon there for exactly that reason. It was his platoon. I believed that their presence would have been enough to bring him back."

"And in doing so, your sentimentality has put us in danger. All because you don't want another Cardinal."

Phasma eyes grew as frigid as ice, "You're right, Admiral. I don't. Cardinal was my brother. His troopers were my children. Both died because of his action and our inability to reconcile the conflict before it grew out of hand. That is exactly what is happening here, Admiral."

"Yes, you are correct. Now we have a traitor alive and well that could inspire rebellion rather than a dead traitor who would inspire no one."

"That is an oxymoron, Admiral, and surprising coming from you. A man who fought an army of martyrs."

"Yes," Hux sighed as he slumped into his chair, "martyrs created by acts of tremendous, pointless brutality. Sound familiar?"

Phasma nodded, "History is repeating."

"I will not allow it to, Captain," Hux replied, fire in his eyes, "we've worked too damn hard getting to this point to allow the folly of Tarkin, Palpatine and Vader to undo us again."

Phasma nodded, staring at Sevens' face, "What is to be done with him, then?"

Hux sighed deeply, "Despite being one of Cardinal's troopers, FN-2007 is a loyal and capable soldier. Which is why I am having him promoted to take FN-2145's position as platoon commander."

"Curious, isn't it?" Phasma mused softly, "A capable soldier and a fanatical officer produced under the same teachings of the same man?"

"Or capable soldiers and a traitor under the same woman?" Hux asked with a wry smile, "I suppose the truth is there isn't a point. Perhaps Captain Svar is correct. Perhaps the Grand Army of the Republic was a fluke and can never be recreated."

"Bold words coming from a Deathwatch failure."

"Careful, Captain. Some could say the same of the First Order."

"With all due respect, you are nothing like him, Ramius. When the Empire fell, you helped create a government that has stood the test of time. What has Svar and others like him done? Nothing. That is the difference."

"I'd hardly call thirty years 'the test of time,' Captain."

"It's better than the few minutes Pre Vizsla had. Hell, it's even better than the twenty four years Palpatine had. I have more respect for what Fenn Shysa, Sabine Wren and Bo-Katan Kryze managed to achieve, and they are our enemies."

"I would be careful to not mention such things in the presence of the White Wolf," Hux smiled earnestly.

"Oh come now, Ramius. We both know I can take him." Phasma grinned with a cockiness that looked alien to her.

"With or without that vibro-axe of his?"

Phasma grin deepened as her hands felt for the hilt of her sword, "Both. Maybe with that jetpack of his, he might have a chance… by flying away."

"Arrogance is unbecoming, Captain," Hux chuckled, "though I suppose the difference is when you know you are correct."

"Of course, sir," she laughed before she sighed a moment, "sir, if I may ask, why am I going with," she bit her lip and forced herself to say the name, "Sydow? All things considered?"

"Why do you hate the man so much?"

"He's a pirate, sir," Phasma growled, "I don't care if he works for us, he's still one. His loyalty lies entirely with whoever has the most money, not with the cause they have."

"I suppose so," Hux nodded, "to answer your question, Captain, it's very simple. Despite this catastrophe, you are still one of the few people I trust to get this done."

"What about Lord Kylo?"

"He has his own agenda, Phasma. We both know this. While the Lords of Ren may not command this military, we do not command them, either. I need you to be my eyes on this matter, Phasma, and to complete this mission if Ren is incapable of doing so."

"That… that is dangerous talk, Admiral."

"We live in dangerous times, Phasma. And in a way, Cardinal was right about one thing."

"Which is?"

"The fate of the Empire Reborn belongs to us, not the Sith."

"I understand, sir," Phasma nodded, "and I will do my duty."

"There is one other thing, Captain. No doubt wherever the droid is, FN-2187 will be as well, and no doubt your paths will cross."

"What would you have me do, sir?" Phasma asked, dreading the answer.

"Kill him," Hux replied, his eyes boring into hers, "do not try to bring him back. Do not try to convince him back to our side. He made his choice, and now he must suffer the consequences. Otherwise, we just incentivize others to follow in his wake."

Phasma sighed, closing her eyes as she nodded numbly, "Yes sir."

"Then you are dismissed," the Admiral said, the Captain rising to her feet and marching out the door. Hux watched her go, shaking his head as he did.

"I've already lost one child to fanatics," he said to no one in particular, "don't take another from me."